


Dreams Come True

by Light_It_On_Fire



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Married Remus/Janus, Panic Attacks, Patton is Virgil's Therapist, Probably Inaccurate Descriptions of a Therapist's Office, Strange and Unmeancing Government Agency, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Light_It_On_Fire/pseuds/Light_It_On_Fire
Summary: Virgil's parents can't afford to send him to therapy. Fortunately, he gets some anyways, although unconventional means.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Dreams Come True

“And Three…”

Virgil was confused. Who was that?

“Two…”

What were they counting down to?!

“One!”

Virgil opened his eyes. (They had been closed?)

When he finally adjusted to his surroundings, he was shocked. Instead of his bed like he expected, Virgil found he was sitting on a very comfortable couch that he was sitting in, that was so soft it felt like he could sink right into it. 

The room he was in, which definitely wasn’t his bedroom, was dark. The only source of light was a lamp sitting in the corner, and fairy lights strung along the ceiling. Besides his couch, the only other furniture in the room was a chair across from him, a desk shoved into a corner, and a potted plant next to the desk. The walls were painted a calming shade of pastel blue, and the carpet was soft and squishy between his toes.

Wait, he wasn’t wearing socks? That was… odd. He usually wore them to bed because his feet got cold. With a spike of fear, Virgil noticed that all of his clothing was different. Instead of his usual nighttime clothes, he wore soft grey sleep pants and a loose black shirt. That was it. None of his makeup, no socks, and definitely no hoodie. 

He shook himself out of thoughts of his clothes. There were more important things to worry about right now. Virgil turned back to examining the room. 

Seeing no immediate threat in the room, (though there were also no doors or windows, which concerned him almost as much) Virgil returned his attention to the desk.

It was decorated with a picture frame that Virgil couldn’t see the contents of and had a half-filled coffee mug sitting to one side of a computer. Sitting right in the middle of the desk was a file with ‘Virgil Sanders’ written on the front in bold black lettering. That… should also be a cause for concern, although, for some reason, he felt very relaxed about this whole situation, considering he had probably been kidnapped. He didn’t feel all that concerned. Where  _ was _ he? 

“Hello there.”

What the hell. There was a  _ person  _ sitting at the desk, and he hadn’t even noticed it? 

“You’re right on schedule, honey.” 

The person’s face was blurred, and Virgil really couldn’t tell much about them. He could see that they were wearing warning glasses, and the voice seemed more masculine, but Virgil couldn’t be sure. They wore a light blue shirt, with a grey cardigan over top of it. 

“Were you referred to our facility by someone?”

Virgil was starting to panic now. “No, I- I don’t think so? Where am I, who are you?!” Oh no, oh no, no, no. He was feeling a bit too short of breath for his liking.

The person seemed to smile cheerfully. “Well, that’s quite alright, hon. We’ve been expecting you anyway!” They must have noticed Virgil’s panicked tone, because he continued, “and there’s no need to feel scared- oh dear!” They had finally looked up from their computer, seeing Virgil’s quickly degenerating state.

In a flash, the mysterious person was around the desk, kneeling beside the chair Virgil sat slouched in, gasping for breath.

“Oh Kiddo, it’s alright, you’re safe, you’re not in danger. Can I touch you?”

Against his better judgment, Virgil nodded. He just really needed physical contact right now, okay?

The stranger gently took his hand, just holding on to it. Virgil still couldn’t see their face, and he still couldn’t calm down. 

“Oh goodness, honey! You need to relax!” The stranger paused, taking a shaky breath themselves. “Alright, we’re going to do some breathing exercises, okay?”

Slowly, they lead him through the familiar 4-7-8 pattern, one that Virgil knew well. 

Once he had regained a normal (ish) breathing pattern, the stranger smiled at him, standing up and returning to his seat behind the desk. 

Now that he wasn’t panicking, the adrenaline flooding him started turning anger instead. 

“Where  _ am _ I? And  _ who _ are you!?” He snapped, glaring at the stranger. 

They flinched, looking, from what Virgil could see, regretfully and apologetic. “Oh dear,” they coughed under their breath, “Well, this got off to a rough start.” They raised their voice to a normal level, giving him a sheepish smile as they extended their hand for a handshake.

“My name is Morality, and I’m your assigned agent from the Sweet Dreams Agency!”

“Okaaaaaay?” Virgil pointedly ignored the handshake, as he dragged out his statement, carefully constructing his next question to insure that whoever this person was wouldn’t kill him. “I don’t understand what that means. Also, did your parents hate you, to name you Morality?”

There. Perfect.

Morality flushed. “Um, no, kiddo, Morality is a sort of code name.” It was Virgil’s turn to duck his head in embarrassment now.

Morality sighed. “Oh goodness, this isn’t working out at all like I’d hoped, hon, I’m so sorry. You’re my first assignment, so I’m a bit nervous myself.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, but I still don’t know where I am.”

Morality smiled. “Where do you think you are?

Virgil glanced around at the decorations for a second and contemplated the couch again. 

“It looks kind of like a therapist's office?”

Morality smiled, seemingly pleased with the answer. He jotted something down in a notebook that appeared in his hands. As the notebook appeared, Morality’s chair was suddenly slightly closer than before. The room seemed to shrink from the expansive space it was before into a cozy room. It looked like someone’s living room. And if it hadn’t before, it definitely looked more like a therapist's office now. 

“Very astute! You could certainly say I’m a type of therapist. Have you ever been to a therapist before, Virgil?”

“No…” Virgil answered, but trailed off as he saw Morality jotting down more notes in his notebook.

Morality seemed to notice his hesitancy and reassured him. “Don’t worry kiddo, It’s nothing bad, just notations so that I’ll remember what happened and put it into your file later. I have a pretty bad memory.”

Virgil hummed, unsure.

Morality smiled again. His smile was relaxing and comforting, soothing something in Virgil. “Have you ever considered therapy, Hon?”

“Not really? I mean, nothing terrible has happened to me, so I don’t need it, and even if I wanted to, my parents couldn't afford it.” Virgil blinked. Where had that come from? He was usually so careful about telling strangers anything about himself, but he told Morality all that without thinking twice. 

Morality didn’t seem phased by his honesty. “You know therapy isn’t just for people who have had something traumatic happen to them, right, Kiddo?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, I guess I kinda knew that.” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “But I never saw a reason to even really think about it. and I still couldn’t afford it anyway. “ 

Morality looked sad, before rushing to replace it with what Virgil now beginning to suspect was his default facial expression: a smile. “Well, thank you for telling me that, Hon. I suspect I’ll be seeing you again.”

”Wait, What?” Virgil called in a panic as Patton seemed much farther away now, and his voice faded. “You still haven't told me where I am!” The surrounding area seemed to fall apart until he was standing in an empty room, which itself was slowly fading. He heard one last echo of Morality’s voice calling out to him

”You’re dreaming. Virgil. Wake up.”

Virgil shot up in bed, already forgetting the weird dream he had.

~~~

When Virgil went down for breakfast, he had a weird nagging thought about therapy. 

He brought it up with his dads, who looked vaguely upset at the thought. 

“You know we can’t afford that, Virgil.” His dad sighed, a frown on his face. “We could try and save up for it if it’s something you think you need, but you know how hard things are right now.” His Papa leaned over, putting a supportive arm around his dad’s shoulders.

“Never mind,” Virgil muttered, getting up to go take his shower. When he left the room, he heard his Dad ask his Papa 

“Remus? What do you think...?” He trailed off, and Virgil didn’t hear his dad’s reply. 

He was stupid to ask. Stupid, stupid! Why did he ask about that? He knew his family couldn’t afford that. His Dad worked as a teacher at a middle school, and his Papa couldn’t work a regular job after the accident a year ago that broke his spine and rendered his legs useless. He would have kept his old office job, but most days he was struck with debilitating pain that kept him from concentrating on anything for very long. Virgil  _ knew _ that they were struggling to pay for the medical bills still, as well as Remus’ physical therapy. Why had he even thought about asking for therapy?

Virgil worked at the local Starbucks, but that money went entirely towards paying off his college. He was going to a nearby community college and hoping to major in graphic design. But he needed money for that.

~~~

When Virgil fell asleep that night, he found himself back in the same room from the night before, the memories from the night before came flooding back, so he wasn’t as shocked to see Morality sitting in the chair opposite him. 

Morality smiled, greeting him softly. Virgil spoke then, “Why didn’t I remember what happened last night?”

“Well, Hon, my agency is top secret. We can't have people talking about it in the waking world, but you should have vague feelings leftover from these sessions. That’s why you asked your parents about therapy. 

“Wait, how do you know that?” Virgil asked, slightly panicked. These people knew about that? What else did they know about?  _ How  _ had they known? 

“I, unfortunately, can’t tell you that, but the good news is that you’ve been approved to continue these sessions!”

“What do you mean?” 

“You are unable to revive therapy in the real world, so you need it here.” Morality paused then, smiling at him. His face was still blurred, which made Virgil curious. Now that he knew, sort of, what this was, Morality’s face being blurred was now more important. Before, he had been too busy freaking out over where he was and what was happening to worry about it. 

“What’s up with your face?” Virgil blurted out. 

“It’s for my protection, as well as the protection of my agency, we wouldn’t want you to recognize me outside of the dreams, after all! Not that that would be likely to happen.” Morality rarely stopped smiling, which Virgil would have been wary of if it didn’t look so right on his face. Or what he could see of his face. 

Virgil sighed, relaxing further into his chair. Oh well, he supposed it could be worse. He could be having horrific nightmares right now, but instead he was getting free therapy, so….

~~~

A year later, when Virgil popped up into the dreamscape, as he had started calling it, he was much more relaxed. 

“Mo, you’re not going to believe what happened today.” Morality smiled at him, as always, gesturing at him to continue.

Virgil launched into his tale of the day's events. 

~~~

It was a normal day at the coffee shop. Well, afternoon really, since it was almost three, which meant it was almost time for Virgil’s shift to end. Virgil was making the drinks, while his co-worker, Valerie, manned the register.

“Large black coffee for Remy!” He called out to the nearly empty shop, a man wearing a leather jacket took the drink, sending him a smirk and a ‘Thanks, babe.’ 

The only other people in the shop were a duo sitting in one of the corners. One of them, a man wearing a tie, honestly looked like one of Virgil’s college professors. He couldn’t see much of the second, because his back was facing Virgil. 

Virgil hurried to finish the drinks for the two customers. When he did, he walked over, not bothering to call across the empty shop for them, when it was obvious who the drinks belonged to. 

The men noticed his presence and paused their conversation. “Small black coffee for Logan?” The man who looked like a teacher nodded, and Virgil handed him his coffee. 

“And a small hot chocolate for Patton-” Virgil turned to the last man, Patton, to hand him his coffee, but stopped in shock. The man-  _ Patton _ \- paused while taking the cup from Virgil’s hand, obviously recognizing him as well. The man’s hesitance in taking the cup and Virgil’s shock resulted in him letting go of the cup much too soon. The drink hit the floor, scalding liquid spilling all over. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, Hon!” Patton yelped, jumping to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Virgil automatically gave the man his best customer service smile, which honestly looked more like a grimace than a smile. He knew his coworker was staring at him from behind the bar for his odd behavior, but this man…

“I know you.” He blurted out. 

“I don’t think so, Kiddo? I don’t remember you.” Patton smiled, but it looked wrong, strained. Suddenly, Virgil became certain that he knew this man, and that the man knew him too, but from where? Why couldn’t he remember? Why was the man lying?

“I know you,” Virgil said, still staring at the familiar man, much too familiar. A flicker of a small room, with no windows or doors, and a smiling man. “Morality...” Patton flinched back, and his companion startled. 

“Oh, you two know each other?” Logan spoke, perhaps louder than was necessary, which made Virgil’s coworker shrug the odd behavior of the three and go back to making coffee for a new customer. 

The two stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a few moments, neither one knowing what to do. 

Eventually, Virgil’s coworker came over with the mop and a replacement hot chocolate. “You can talk to your friend at the end of your shift, Virge.” He teased, handing him the mop.

Virgil took the mop on autopilot and started cleaning. Patton smiled at him and said “We’ll talk at the end of your shift. When do you get off?” 

~~~

Virgil could feel the eyes burning into his back, as he went through the last fifteen minutes of his shift. He was getting nervous. He had remembered something that he wasn’t supposed to. What were they going to do to him?

Finally, after delaying a full ten minutes after his shift, he couldn’t delay any longer. He hung up his apron, trading it out for his hoodie. 

When he walked out from behind the counter, the two men were still waiting for him. 

“Ready to go, Virgil?” Patton smiled and Virgil silently followed the two of them out the door, not knowing what else to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Is he going to get an explanation, or is he going to get snatched for remember things he's not supposed to? Who knows, that's up to you!  
> Comments are appreciated!  
> I'm also on tumblr [@light-it-on-fire](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/light-it-on-fire)  
> My asks are always open, and Anon is turned on, come scream at me!


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